


I Am Nothing (Without Pretend)

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Series: Survival Instincts [3]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Captive Bonding, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gang Rape, Homophobic Language, Inadequate Lubrication, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Rape, Sexist Language, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Coercion, Stockholm Syndrome, Unsafe Sex, Violence, Zombies, survival sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 01:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: "I'm not like those guys I was with!"The trio come across a group of survivors.





	I Am Nothing (Without Pretend)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Wye Oaks song “Civilian.” Chase and Kelly are from the Walking Dead: Cold Storage webisodes. Sean and Nate are the two guys who were with Randall in the episode Triggerfinger (S2xE09). The car dealership I’ve driven past a few times.

 

 

The food was consumed, the liquids all gone. The car smelled foul as they crept along the broken roads. The hybrid engine made a low droning that the monsters seemed to ignore unless they actually saw the car moving, or caught sight of the three men living on top of each other inside.

Randall was crouched in the small footwell, his arms wrapped around Dave's legs as he tried hard to find some sleep. He'd been upgraded to one third of the watches once they got on the road, and the time not spent scanning the shadows for deadheads was spent doing other things. He didn't sleep much, or well, unable to relax with glass all around. The one disastrous time he tried sleeping on the ground outside the car, he'd been in such a state of constant panic he'd vomited hard enough to blow a blood vessel in his eye. 

The glass sucked, but it was better than nothing. 

Dave's hand rubbed at the back of his neck, encouraging Randall to press his face into the curve of his thigh. The darkness helped, and the movement of the car, and Dave's constant presence. With Tony occupied with driving, it was the best possible time to sleep. He really wanted to sleep.

His stomach growled, hunger tugging like an old friend at his thoughts. Time was still a complete mystery to Randall. It was better to just depend on the moment, rather than think of times gone by or coming towards them. Nothing was there for him except nightmares. 

"Whup," Tony grumbled, knocking Randall out of the light doze he'd just slipped into. "Trouble."

In an instant, Randall was completely awake. He had a small squat knife that he'd pulled out of a deadhead right after smashing its skull, and he held it in his hand with a tight grip. He didn't move from his spot, but he was ready to fight at any moment. This was something he was good at. Not scavenging or hunting or surviving, but destroying those things? He was a fucking natural. 

"Easy, puppy," Dave chuckled. "They're alive."

"Don't mean it's safe," he mumbled in reply.

The car came to a stop, jerking as Tony put it in park. "Let me do the talking," Dave murmured, then rolled down the window to stick his empty hands out. "We come in peace," he joked. 

"Leave the weapons in the car, and get out."

Dave nodded. "Look, I'm coming out. No problem."  It took some wriggling, but Dave extracted his legs from Randall's grasp, twisting to step out of the open door. He leaned in, resting his gun on the seat as he ruffled Randall's hair. "Stay down, puppy, okay?" he whispered. 

"Both of you," a sharp voice from outside of the car barked. 

"C'mon, Tone. You heard the man."

Tony grumbled, but he twisted the ignition and yanked out the keys. If something bad happened, there was no way for Randall to leave without them. Not that he would—there was nowhere to go, and the next people could be even worse. Tony ignored Randall for the most part, opening his door and leveraging himself out of the seat. The car rocked gently as the two men slammed their doors shut and approached the strangers. 

Randall knew he had to stay down, be good, but he wanted to know what was going on. Just the edge of words floated through the window--names, places, "food" and "water." He lifted his knife, twisting the blade to catch the blurred shadows of the men horseshoed around the car. Dave seemed to be doing the talking, addressing a tall black man who listened with a stern face. Moving the knife around, he caught sight of about 10 other figures. They appeared armed, strong. If it came to it, the three of them would be dead.

There was movement. Randall twisted the knife to follow it. It looked like Dave and the leader were walking away from the group, their heads bent low. Dave was gesturing back to the car. The leader turned to look. 

Randall dropped his knife, sticking it back into the makeshift sheath at his belt. He curled up tight in the footwell, tucking his head against his knees. The air through the window was warm and wet, like a dog's breath, but he could clearly hear the gravel and asphalt scrape as two sets of feet came near. He tucked himself tighter, making himself small, hugging his knees. 

"....rules." Dave's voice became louder the closer he got. "I think this one falls outside his purview. C'mon out, Randall."

The door creaked open, and Randall looked up to see the leader staring down at him, not quite angry but not quite friendly, either. Dave was calculatedly relaxed, his charming smile shining in the sunlight. He furrowed his brow, waving his hand. "C'mon, puppy. Out."

Randall uncurled slowly, letting the blood rush to his toes before leaning out of the car door. Dave reached out, tucking a hand under his armpit, and pulled Randall to his feet. He swayed a bit, frowning at the leader before casually swiveling his head. His count had been off by about five. 

The leader was looking him up and down, his gaze inscrutable. "Puppy?"

Dave laughed, reaching out to ruffle Randall's hair. He frowned, leaning away from the touch. "Nickname. We're old friends, aren't we, Randall?"

"Sure."

"I told you," Dave said, a little more serious now, "we're not here to hurt anyone. We're just looking for a place to stay. Maybe some food. Maybe some water. I showed you mine..."

The leader nodded to a skinny white guy who stood only a few feet away. The whole crowd had moved a little closer. "Nate, give 'em some water." 

The skinny guy dug in his pack, pulling out a couple of dented water bottles. Randall licked his lips as one bottle was passed to Tony and Dave in turn. When the skinny guy went to hand a third bottle to Randall, the leader cut him off with a gesture. "In a minute." 

The leader stepped forward, getting into Randall's space, closing them off behind the open car door. "Is it true?"

Randall scrunched his face, looking to Dave for some direction. Dave swallowed another mouthful of water. "Be good, huh?" Then he turned his back on the two of them, stepping into the crowd of strangers to accept a packet of chips. 

It didn't take long for Randall to understand. He let the leader crowd him into the shadows of the car. Tentatively, the guy reached out, one dry hand touching Randall's cheek. "So, is it true?"

Randall nodded dumbly, letting himself be pushed down until he was half-in, half-out of the car, his butt barely resting sideways on the seat. He licked his lips, staring up into brown eyes. The leader shuddered a bit, widening his stance when Randall reached out for his fly. He could feel that the man was already hard.

"Oh, God." At the first touch of bare skin to bare skin, words just burst out of the man's mouth. "Shit, it's been so long. I can't even--Chase won't let us near the girls. I'm not gay or anything." 

'Neither am I,' Randall thought. Then he leaned in, taking the dark-flushed tip between his lips, licking just a little. 

"Uh! God!" The man's hips hunched forward, and only Randall's hand wrapped around the base prevented the thrust from triggering his gag reflex. He'd learned to not bite, to keep his teeth out of the way, but he hated gagging. Reflexively, he swallowed around the mouthful, twitching his tongue along the underside before pulling back. 

The leader cupped Randall's jaw, tilting his head just a little so he could move his hips in small thrusts while rubbing the head of his cock between Randall's deft tongue and the roof of his mouth. He swallowed the fluid gathering at the back of his mouth. At least the man tasted clean. It'd been a long time since Dave had tasted this clean. He focused on sucking, squeezing, and moving his tongue, letting the rest of the world fade away around him. Once he was done, they'd have to give him water too. Dave would see to it.

Randall was lost in thoughts of cool, clear water, and so he was taken off guard when the man ejaculated in his mouth. He choked a little, struggling to will his body to just accept the stringent loads. The man's come tasted different from Dave and Tony's, less sweet, more salty. As soon as he was done, the man pulled out to lean heavily against his arm braced against the roof. Sweat dripped down the side of his temple, making his skin glisten in the sun. 

Randall wiped at his mouth with his arm, rubbing his tongue against his teeth to get the thick filmy-feeling off it. He stared down at the man's shoes, wondering if it would be rude if he spit.

The crinkle of plastic caught his attention. He looked up again to see one of those water bottles being dangled in front of his face. He grabbed it before it could be taken away, ripping off the cap and taking several deep gulps. 

"I'm Sean, by the way," the leader was saying, a satisfied smile on his face. "Welcome to the group."

Then Sean stepped aside, and the other guy, the skinny one called Nate, slinked into the newly vacated space. 

"My turn," Nate said nearly sing-song, his hands already moving at his own crotch. 

Randall took one last long drink from the warm plastic bottle, then carefully tucked it into the cup holder in the console. He knew he was going to need it.

*******

Dave carded his fingers through Randall's hair, massaging his scalp. The exhausted kid was asleep at last, curled in the footwell once again. He'd done a good job satisfying most of the men in the group before Sean called them off, saying they had to get back.  Sean had shaken Dave's hand, told them to follow, and then they were back on the road to meet the Big Boss.

Dave wasn't too worried. He could read people pretty good. Sean was stern, but he was protective. It was clear why he was second-in-command. As for the Big Boss? Well, that guy sounded like a creampuff.

"Rules," Dave scoffed softly, watching the dirty dark hair leave greasy sweat on his fingers as he continued petting the kid. Sean had informed him of the rules before Tony could even finish asking about cooze. He'd obviously been through the welcoming ritual several times. Number one, the women were off limits. Anyone even accused of rape was to be executed immediately. Number two, kids were definitely off limits. You even scare one, you're dead. Food and water was shared equally, but able-bodied people had to take part in the hunting and scavenging. "No one just sits on their ass," he had said.

Dave smiled down at Randall. He had known the kid would make a good bargaining chip the moment he heard that first rule. The rest of it didn't matter. They were alive, they had a camp, food, water, and everyone was heavily armed. It was a better option than starving in the car.

He could see a ring of vehicles ahead, set up in an overgrown used car lot that had been located in the nowhere between two small towns. The chain link fence was badly weathered, but combined with the clear, flat land around it, it was good enough. They had excellent sight lines, and the fence would delay the dead long enough for the shooters to take them out.

Tony followed the line of cars into the lot. The gate looked busted open, but two cars pulled forward to cover the entrance once the caravan was inside. The old lot sign was half-eaten by rust, declaring, "onny's Insa Deals!" The painted face of a crazy clown mascot was peeling away, its hollow eyes crying bloody tears.

A short white man with tired eyes stepped out from under the shady awning of the only real building in the lot. Not so big for the Big Boss. He looked like a hound dog who was just too tired to give a damn about the strangers coming into his turf. A creampuff, yes, but there had to be something about him to keep a group this big together without it turning into a shitshow. These days, white knights were hard to find, especially when it was the difference between letting a girl get raped or dying in horrible pain. 

Big Boss was accompanied by a hot blonde with a curvy figure hidden behind a few too many layers of baggy clothes. They were obviously together, the woman's body turned towards her man. Hell, if Dave had found a girl like that, he's certainly wouldn't be protecting her non-existent virtue. A sweet one like that could keep a whole group together by the power of her body alone. Pity the Big Boss chose another way.

Sean walked right up to the couple, deference in his every move as he leaned close and whispered into the man's ear. Dave felt a smug satisfaction as he wondered if the boss could smell the sex-sweat still clinging to his second-in-command.

Dave shifted Randall around on his lap by kicking a leg. "Honey, wake up, we're at gramma's."  Sleepy dark eyes looked up at him from the footwell, glaring openly at being woken up. "C'mon, let's go meet the new gang."

Randall scrambled up, eeling his way up onto Dave's lap before opening the door and sliding out. Dave followed close behind, his arm wrapped tight around the kid's waist to ensure he remained upright on his numb feet. Randall wasn't walking too steady. 

Sean stepped back as their small group approached. "Tony, Dave and Randall," he introduced them with a pointed finger. He turned to the couple, pointing at them in turn, "Chase and Kelly."

Chase nodded, eying the three of them. "Sean tells me you know the rules." The guy's voice was gruff and smokey.

"Yes, sir," Dave said respectfully. "And we're willing to live by 'em if you let us join you."

"How about dying by them?"

Dave turned on his smile. "It won't come to that. We just want to live peacefully with your people."

Chase scratched his chin. "Moving with us doesn't come free. You'll be expected to work."

"We can do that. It's been the three of us for so long, it won't be a problem."

"You got tents?"

Tony snorted, sounding impatient. "Would we look like we've been living in the car if we had some damn tents?" 

"Tone," Dave said warningly. "Look, we're all tired. The chips your man gave us was the only food we've had in days. We'll do whatever you want, answer whatever questions you got, if you'll just feed us."

The woman, Kelly, spoke up, serious but consolatory. "We've got some venison stew for tonight. Why don't you come in, have a bowl, and tell us your story."

Dave made sure he used his most charming, disarming smile when he replied, "It'd be my pleasure, ma'am."

*******

"So I'm like, 'Holy shit, he's alive!' I barely stop this mook from blowing his brains out."

"I wasn't gonna shoot," Tony protested in a sarcastically friendly manner. "You were in my way."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that. So we get him upstairs, get him cleaned up, and when he was better, we took him with us."

"You saved his life," Kelly said, her hand straying to rub at Chase's knee. Something passed the man's face, but it was gone too fast for Randall to decipher it. Chase had barely reacted throughout Dave's tale of the long, strange journey to the South, and he was a hard person to read.

"Eh, he's saved mine a few times. Tony's, too. You gotta watch out for your friends, huh?" Dave ruffled Randall's hair before he could move away from the touch. "You shoulda seen the size of the hoard that went by the house..."

Randall ducked his head, looking deep into the dark liquid that filled the plastic bowl in his lap. They were seated on the ground around a battery-powered lamp, like kids at a campout. The inside of the dealership had been cleaned out a long time ago, but the carpet was clean-ish and comfortable. 

He moved the spoon around, fishing up the dark meat. It was lumpy and indistinguishable, and Randall's stomach clenched a little at seeing it. He poked it back down into the dark depths of the bowl, then licked the salty liquid off the spoon. It was gamey, yet flavorful, but a little too salty. He could still taste the come in the back of his throat, the savory flavors mixing unfavorably. 

"You don't like venison?" Chase asked, his voice quiet against Dave's continuing story. 

Randall looked up to meet his sleepy gaze, realizing the question was meant for him and only him. He shrugged a shoulder, then scooped up the meat and shoved it into his mouth. He breathed through his nose as he chewed, trying not to taste it, working it quickly between his teeth until he could swallow. It slowly sank into his belly, lodging just above his belt. "I like it just fine," he answered back, just as quiet. "Thanks."

Kelly laughed again, a sudden and bright noise in the long shadows of the abandoned building. Dave joined her, his charm curling around every syllable that escaped his mouth. 

Randall took a sip of the broth, letting the liquid sit on his tongue for a long moment before forcing it down his throat. When he finally looked up from the bowl, he found Chase still staring back at him. "'s good," he added uncomfortable under that unreadable gaze. 

"Thank you!" Kelly responded, her voice all sweetness and light. "Chase is the best bow hunter in the group. He kills 'em, and I cook 'em."

"Bow hunter, huh?" Tony asked. "Why not just shoot the fuckers?"

Chase's lip twisted a bit, a warm yet dangerous grin appearing on his face. "Bow's quieter than a bullet, and I can recover almost all my ammo. Can't say the same for that rifle."

Dave cut in before Tony could reply. "Yeah, that's smart. Maybe I'll look into getting one." 

The conversation sort of died there, breaking off into appreciative grunts as everyone tucked into their stew. Randall played with his spoon a little more, but couldn't get the salt-taste out of his mouth to call up any sort of hunger now. 

"You feel all right?" Chase asked, his voice in that soft, just-you-and-me tone again. 

Randall didn't know how to answer that. He had shelter. He had water. He had food. He was fucking golden. Dave leaned against him, nudging Randall with his shoulder. "Kid's just tired. Running into your group cut into his sleep time. His watch is up soon."

Kelly waved her hand. "Forget about that for now. You all look like you could use a shower and some sleep. You're safe now."

Dave nodded appreciatively at her. "Thank you, ma'am." 

She laughed--"Call me Kelly!"--and gathered the empty bowls into a stack. She stopped Randall from adding his to the pile. "Take it with you. You might get hungry later."

Chase carefully stood, uncurling his body like a cat waking up in the sun. "I'll get you a tent from supplies. Follow me."

"We really appreciate all of this..." Dave kept up a steady stream of thankfulness and praise as they followed Chase out of the building and towards a dirt-caked moving van. The back door creaked when he pulled it open, unlocked even in the middle of the camp. The inside was stacked with brown cardboard boxes to the ceiling way in the back, and a pile of canvas sacks sat like mismatched logs across the front. 

Chase pushed a few aside, pulling out a clanking orange bundle. "Might be tight, but it should fit you all." 

Dave took the heavy sack from Chase's hand. "Better than the Prius." 

Chase pointed across the lot to where some sheets billowed in the light breeze next to a decrepit RV. "There's an outdoor shower set up over there. Men go in the evening, women and children in the morning. Anyone caught peeking will be shot." 

Dave barked out a laugh, but Chase looked deadly serious as he held Dave's eyes. "Follow the rules, and you'll be fine." 

Chase took one last look at the three of them, as though sizing up their graves, then walked off towards the building. Kelly waited for him at the door, leaning into his space to kiss his cheek before they went inside. 

Randall stood there a minute, cold bowl of stew in his hand, watching them disappear. 

"Well," Tony announced, unslinging his gun to hand it to Dave. "I'll take first shower."

"Thank God," Dave snarked back. 

******

Walking alone, side-by-side, Dave and Randall scoped out the area, looking for a good place to settle. There were a few RVs and Silver Bullets in the group, but for the most part tents were set up with people sitting outside just talking, like it wasn't the end of the world. Look-outs perched on top of the taller vehicles, their eyes relentlessly scanning the horizon. The sun was low in the sky, giving everything an eerie orange-ish look. 

Around the side of the dealership lay several large, open bays. A massive Hummer was set up inside, with all sorts of equipment and supplies and folding chairs and blankets stacked up in the space around it. The three heavy rusted metal gates were propped up with long poles. The garage was teeming with people--women, and a lot of children, just laughing and entertaining and running around. Their small voices pinged off the walls, bouncing back and forth until the noise was just a steady hum of excitement. 

Dave could tell it was their fall-back position, as well as a safe-haven for the children. One hard kick at the poles, and the gates would come crashing down, protecting them from whatever might try to overtake the little village. It was a pretty perfect set-up, something Dave might have done for himself if he'd found the place first. 

The ground in front of the service bays was rough rock and dirt and weeds. A couple tents were set up in the space. Even though it was relatively far from their car, it was close to safety and surrounded by lots of other bodies--it was about as safe as they could get. 

"Let's set up here," Dave said, swiping his boots across the gravel to try to uncover the bare ground. 

The tent was an easy-to-assemble one, lucky for them. Dave had never set one up before in his life, and Randall wasn't too good without directions. It was low to the ground, just tall enough to let them sit up and move inside. They would be sleeping on top of each other, but at least they'd be able to stretch out. Randall retrieved some clothes and a couple blankets from the car, using them to cushion the ground a little. They left their shoes outside, carefully brushing off their dirty socks before getting in. 

Dave laid down, stretching himself out on the lumpy padding. His back cracked audibly, and he sighed with the sudden rush of comfort that filled in the low-level ache he'd been carrying for days. "Makes me miss that squeaky bed of yours." When Randall didn't make a sound in response, Dave opened his eyes and looked over at him with a smile. 

The kid was sitting in a little ball, his boney knees up to his chest as he sat on the far side of the tent, a scowl on his face. His gaze was focused on the mostly-full bowl of soup, now cold and a little congealed, that he'd carefully carried and watched over as they set up their new home. He brushed away a small ant that tried to crawl up the side, but otherwise didn't move. 

"You gonna finish that?" Dave asked. He kept his tone neutral, but he wouldn't deny that he was still a little hungry. The soup had been delicious, flavorful, spicy, a strange combination of flavors that both sparked his appetite and sated it. That Kelly chick sure knew how to cook. Between that and her tits...Chase was a lucky bastard. 

Randall glanced up, meeting Dave's gaze a moment before he scooped the bowl up with one hand. He carefully sipped at the liquid, swallowing it down until it was all gone. Just lumps of meat and a little brown sauce clung to the bottom of the bowl when Randall set it down. "I'm done."

"Bring it over here." The tent wasn't big enough that Dave couldn't have just reached for it, but he was too comfortable to bother. Anyway, he wanted the kid close. 

Randall twisted his legs, getting them under him so he could knee-walk across the tent, the bowl carefully tucked into one hand. He set it down next to Dave and started to move away, but Dave stopped him with a hand on his wrist. 

"C'mere." 

Randall's eyes flashed to the tent flap. It was closed, but not zipped up; Tony could come back at any moment. But Dave just stared at his face, willing him to obey. 

After a long moment, Randall scooted closer until he could climb on top of Dave's chest. He settled his ass across Dave's stomach, his weight barely there as his warm thighs bracketed Dave's waist. Instinctively, Dave rubbed his hands up Randall's legs, cupping his hips. 

"C'mere."

Randall leaned down, tilting his head just right to match his rough lips against his mouth. It started as a soft touching of lips, before Dave pushed, seeking out the savory flavor of the soup on his puppy's tongue. Randall's mouth was saltier, still bearing traces of a half-dozen men's come as he licked at his teeth and lips. Instantly, Dave was rock hard.

"You're so good, puppy," he whispered against the kid's lips. 

"I thought you wanted the stew," Randall replied, his voice a little louder as he put more distance between them. 

Dave let him sit up, his hands restlessly kneading his ass.  "My hands are a little busy. You'll have to feed me." 

Randall made a face, but he leaned over, picking a piece of meat from the bowl and holding it out over Dave's face. It wasn't strawberries and champagne, but Dave moaned appreciatively as he took the offered morsel from Randall's hand. He smiled as he chewed, looking up at the kid's scruffy face. When he swallowed, Randall held up another piece, waiting for Dave to take it. 

It reminded Dave of the early days, when the kid was so weak and malnourished. That eager little tongue seeking out every scrap of food as Dave fed him. He hadn't really put on much weight since then, but his body was fleshed out a little more. The kid would look good with some muscle on his frame to break up the lanky angles.

There wasn't much meat left in the bowl, so Dave licked Randall's fingers clean once the he'd swallowed the last bit. Then he lifted his head to look down at his chest and frowned.

"What?" 

Dave looked up at Randall, gesturing to his shirt. "You got some soup on me." 

"Sorry?" the kid said, unsure as his eyes scanned the dark fabric. 

Dave wiggled. "Help me take it off." He could feel the devilish hunger in his smile as Randall started to get up. "Nah, don't leave me. Just," he raised his hands, wiggling again, "pull." 

Long fingers worked at the fabric, pulling it up over his chest and wrestling it against the friction of the blanket beneath them. Dave lifted his shoulders a little bit, leaning into Randall as the kid finally tugged it over his head. The warm air of the tent felt good against his bare skin, the kid's weight settling back down again. 

"You ever give a massage?" 

Randall shook his head. "Uh-uhn."

"Ever get one?"

"Nope." 

"Aw, puppy. You've missed out." Dave reached out, tugging Randall's shirt out of his jeans. The muscles of his abdomen clenched and moved under his skin as Dave helped him out of the shirt. Then he ran his hands over the bare skin, digging in the tips of his fingers as he kneaded the flesh. The skin turned white under the pressure, then flushed as he moved on to the next spot, rubbing and touching and cataloguing every inch of that sweat-salty skin. They both really needed a shower, but a certain part of Dave just really liked it when his boy was dirty. 

When he reached Randall's neck, Dave pulled, directing the kid to lie down on top of him as he slotted their mouths together. Their lips were chapped, but it just made Dave work harder to feel the tingle of unshaved skin. Too long in the car, too long of quick fucks or a voyeuristic hand job. He missed that old house, but at least they were safe now. Safer than they'd been in a long time. 

A shadow cut between the sun and the two men, a burst of childish laughter. Randall broke off from the kiss, sitting up and looking ashamed and scared as he stared at the tent flaps. No one was coming in, but the sounds of the children playing nearby in the service bays was loud in the sudden silence of the tent. 

Dave rubbed his hand against the long column of Randall's throat, but the boy resisted his efforts to pull him back down. "We shouldn't do this here."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Where do you think we're going to do this? In the car?" 

"I--"

"I haven't seen your ass in over a week, not since that little rest stop. I'm dying over here."

"The kids--"

"Fuck 'em." Dave snorted at Randall's look. "I mean, /don't/, but who cares? They've seen worse things. We've all seen worse things." 

Randall shuddered a little bit, the movement trailing down his spine so that he was fairly vibrating. Dave leaned up, nuzzling into Randall's neck. "C'mon, puppy."

Randall sighed, turning his face into Dave's nuzzling to capture his lips. They kissed for long moments, until Dave started shifting his hips, bucking into the cradle of Randall's thighs. "C'mon," he whispered against his lips. 

Randall pulled away, a slight frown on his lips as he reached behind him, blindly playing at the fly of Dave's jeans. He eventually found the button, pulling and tugging until the zipper gave away as well. A sweet, warm hand slipped into the space, squeezing him just enough to make his hips buck once more. 

Randall slid down Dave's body, just grazing his erection as he settled his chest on his upper thighs. He tugged at the filthy denim, exposing Dave's hips as he kissed just above his belly button. Dave groaned at the feeling, missing this, missing the ability to just take their time. Then that pretty little mouth engulfed him, sucking and licking and drooling down his shaft. 

Dave lost himself in the pleasure, his mind filling with images of all those men lining up, one by one fucking his puppy's sweet hole. 

"Enough!" Dave grunted, twisting his fingers into Randall's dirty hair to pull him off. The kid's mouth was once more sinfully red, swollen and shiny with his own spit. "Get up here."

Randall crawled up Dave's body, willingly giving up his mouth as Dave started pulling at his pants. Kid was so skinny, he didn't even need to unzip them, just pull real hard until his bony ass was exposed. Fuck, he missed the kid's ass. He kneaded the barely-there flesh, working at the muscle until he couldn't wait any longer. 

Dave rolled them over so he was on top, his weight suspended over Randall as he wrestled the fabric down to his ankles. With a quick motion, he flipped Randall over onto his stomach, and pushed his way inside. 

"Ah, fuck," he whispered, pushing his voice into the edge of Randall's ear. He could just hear the children's voices laughing over the heavy panting in the tent, the rushing of blood in his ears. "You're so fucking tight. Like it's your first time." He pulled back and thrust. Randall caught the noise he made in the blanket beneath his hands, stuffing the fabric into his mouth to muffle the tiny aching cries that wanted to escape. 

Dave was wound up too tight, it'd been too long, and after only a short time he gasped, choked, and came inside Randall. His whole body felt like it was spilling out through his dick, a rush of pleasure followed by a deep exhaustion that made his fingers go numb. He rolled off the kid, flopping onto his back to pant at the humid air, staring at the sun-dappled arch of the tent. 

"We need to find more lube," he said, once his heartbeat calmed. He tucked himself back into his pants, wiping the drying remains of semen and spit off with his hand. "You're so tight, I think you took some skin off." 

"Jerk," Randall groaned, hitching his jeans back over his hips. 

Tony slid aside the tent flap, ducking down to crawl inside. His hair was still wet, and his hat was missing. He scrunched up his face, waving a hand in front of him. "Jesus, it smells like ass in here." 

Dave laughed. "Better his than yours." 

Tony grunted, working his way into the space between the two other men until Randall scrambled to make room. "The shower's shit, but it's better than nothing. You should go get some. The water's nearly gone." 

"What are they using for water?"

Tony shrugged. "Water."

"Ha ha." 

"No deadheads in it, if that's what you mean." Tony huffed, looking annoyed at Dave. "I didn't ask. They just said they was running low." 

Dave rolled his hand, working out a kink in his wrist. "C'mon, let's go." 

Tony reached out, stopping Randall from leaving the space. "Hey, don't I get a turn?"

Randall shook his hand off, the look on his face completely sour. "Later, Tony." 

"Yeah, later," Dave added. "After they run out of water."

Tony scowled, but just stayed where he was in the middle of the tent, taking up as much space as possible. 

************

Randall stepped out of the tent and into his shoes, not bothering to tie the laces. He followed in step with Dave as they crossed to the showers, both of them shirtless in the heat. There were only a couple people hanging around the area. 

"Showers still open?"

"Yeah, but the water crew's late. Might have to shut 'er down soon."

Randall and Dave slipped behind the sheets, entering a small changing area where a couple of men were drying off and getting dressed. There were towels hung around the edges, damp and ragged. One of the men finished dressing, leaving a folding chair vacant. 

"After you," Dave gestured. 

Randall kicked his shoes off his feet, tucking them under the chair as he unzipped his pants. He could feel the fabric clinging to his skin. Once he was naked again, he stepped into the plastic-sheeting hallway. 

The top of the shower was open to the sky. The floor was a cracked square of cement, the edge of which dropped off into a slight gully where the dirty water drained away from the camp. There were men stationed at the top of the tank-like structure, controlling the sluice tapped into the side of a giant plastic barrel. It led down to the RV's external shower, modified for the rig with plenty of duct tape. A second, more rickety version was snaking off the side, looking more like a hose haphazardly attached to a traditional shower head. 

"Three gallons," one of the guys up top called down. Randall craned his neck to see, recognizing the face as belonging to one of the many cocks he'd sucked. The guy waggled his tongue, then started messing around with the sluice. 

With a wheezing gasp, the nozzle in his hand sprang to life, spurting coldly over Randall's stomach. He lurched back, holding it away as the water streamed over his bare toes. 

"Use the trigger, dumbass. Don't waste the water."

Randall eased his grip on the neck, lifting his finger off the button he hadn't even known he'd been pressing. When he carefully pushed it down, another spurt of water lurched over his toes, slowly coming to a dripping stop after he removed the pressure. 

Feeling a little more confident, he raised the nozzle over his head, depressing the button and bracing for the cold. It came like ice over his skin, cooling the itchiness of dried sweat. He opened his mouth, letting some of it trickle inside. The water was vaguely chemical-tasting and bitter. With a grimace, he spit it out. 

Randall quickly wetted down his skin, using the bare minimum. The cold water felt good after a while, as his skin got used to the feeling, but he didn't want to be a bad guest and waste precious resources. He released the button as soon as he could, hanging the nozzle back on its hook. 

A few dirty bars of soap were stored in the old shower alcove, slightly foamy from previous use. He rubbed the smallest sliver between his damp palms, working up a lather that he swiped through his hair, over his face, and down his chest. He was as sparing as he could while still getting clean. Another palmful, and he managed to spread the lather over his arms and legs. Dave still hadn't joined him, so he took the momentary privacy to clean his cock and balls. He worked up one last palmful of soap, and then twisted to spread his cheeks, pushing his fingers against his hole.

He gasped at the sting in his skin, warm wetness from Dave's recent fucking mixing with the soap. It hurt, but not too bad, so he worked a single finger inside, hissing and trying to be quick. He wriggled it around to coax the rest of the semen out of his body. He didn't want to get his jeans dirtier than they were, and he wasn't sure how often they would get to shower. Sooner or later, they'd learn the schedule. There was a definite pattern to the life in this camp, everything carefully timed. After all, how could a crew be late in this world?

When he picked up the nozzle again, he first used it over his back. He twisted as he held himself open with one hand, trying to aim the cold water at his hole. It burned, but he waved the nozzle around until he felt sure he was clean. Only then did he rinse off the rest of his body. The water pressure was getting low by the third time he ran it over his head, and he figured his time was almost up. He let go of the button one last time before hanging it back on the hook. 

He was shivering, feeling cold deep inside even while the heat and humidity started pressing in against his skin. He looked up, wrapping his arms around his chest to try to calm the conflicting sensations of hot and cold. At the top of the tank, the man from before was staring down at him, his hand moving over his crotch. Randall dropped his gaze, shuffling away from the shower. 

Dave entered just as Randall finished, and Randall pointed him to the corner he'd just used. "It sucks," Randall said quietly, but he didn't do anything else to warn the man. The noise of the cold water splashing, followed by Dave's cursing, made him smile. 

He dried off as best he could with a damp towel, then stepped back into his jeans and shoes. He felt a full body tiredness, a deep need to just close his eyes and sleep. He cringed at the memories of his last attempt at sleeping outdoors, but the comforting sound of dozens of other people was lulling him into the sense that he might actually be able to rest in the tent. Worse things come to worst, he'd be able to slink off into the car at some point, and at least he'd have the entire front seat to himself. 

Dave looked refreshed but soaked once he joined Randall in the changing area. He walked right up to Randall and shook himself bodily, like a dog, laughing at his squeals. Dave barely bothered with the towel before slipping back into his jeans. He gave Randall a good look over, then ran a hand through Randall's hair, pushing it out of his face. "You look good."

There was a sudden shout, followed by lots noise coming from outside of the shower area. Randall reached for his knife, but Dave held him back with a hand on his chest. 

One of the tank guys jumped down, shouting out a greeting from the other side of the sheets. "'Bout fucking time!"

Horns were honking, and more voices were rising. Not in panic, but in celebration. Dave bounced on his feet, then headed out to see what was going on.

Randall kept his hand on his knife, just in case, but he followed Dave out of the changing area. Four trucks were coming in the makeshift blockade at the opening of the gate, each one filled with big blue barrels. At the very back, a green-tinted water tank on wheels wheezed into the space, the cars closing up behind it. 

Chase was already outside and jogging up to the tanker. He was smiling as he climbed up the side of the cabin, wrenching the door open. A tall woman squealed with delight as she leaned out of the truck, wrapping her long arms around his neck and hugging him tight. 

"Janie! What happened?"

The woman was laughing. "Fucker got a flat! I thought we'd have to walk it back." She pulled away from Chase enough to reach back into the cabin and tug another woman out into the fading light. "Jesse stripped a fucking wheel off a goddamn tractor and managed to fix it. Motherfucking genius!"

Chase smiled up at the other woman, a broad smile that stretched his lips and took a few years off his face. It was a strange look, so different from the gruff seriousness of their initial meeting.  He nodded politely at the other woman, then pulled Janie off the seat and out of the cabin with him. 

She laughed, tripping a few steps and holding herself up against Chase. When she raised her face, her gaze landed instantly on Randall and Dave. Her smile fell a little, and Randall felt completely naked. "More mouths to feed?" 

She didn't sound happy anymore. They exchanged a few whispers before she sighed angrily, her voice getting louder. "I thought we were interviewing the new ones together."

"You were late, and I didn't want to make them wait outside."

"You also didn't need to waste our food and water on them."

"Sean vouched for them."

"Do they know the rules?"

"You can ask them yourself."

"My brother, always taking in strays."

Chase winced, but gestured for the two to come near. Dave slid a hand around Randall's waist, his fingers playing at the edge of his damp jeans, as he pulled him along. Randall nearly stepped out of his shoes as he reluctantly moved forward. "Randall. Dave. There's a third, Tony." Chase looked around.

"He's probably asleep by now," Dave supplied helpfully. "The minute he heard you had a shower, he had to check it out. Always was a prissy bitch."

The woman frowned greatly at the slur.

"Ah, no offense." The frown, if possible, got frownier. "Shit, okay, I'm not quite awake myself. Let's start over. I'm Dave." He leaned around Randall, using the kid as a shield as he offered his hand. "Sean told us all about the rules. We're willing to live by them. You need any help on your next run, let me know, and we'll come along."

She ignored his hand. "You ever work a farm, Dave?"

Dave pulled his hand back, slipping it into his own pocket. "No."

"Then you're not going to be much help. How about you, Randall?"

"I--" his voice squeaked a bit, so he stopped and swallowed before talking. "I helped out, walked beans, detasseled corn." 

She tilted her head. "You're from around here, aren't you?"

"Sort of?" Randall answered, not sure where they were now, if it was even still Georgia. 

She pointed at Dave. "Keep him in line, then."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Call me Jane."

"So we can stay?" Dave asked, his charming voice sounding a little strained. 

"For now," she replied. "You'll be part of the scavenging group to start. You do good, and maybe you can both come on the next water run." Jane pointed to the truck that was idling in front of the big water tank. "Help 'em with the unloading. Make yourself useful."

"Yes, ma'am," Dave replied with a smirk, trying but failing at copying Randall's accent. He wrapped his arm around Randall's shoulders, hugging him close for a moment before they turned around and headed towards the truck. 

*******

Chase watched the two men closely. Dave didn't let go of the younger man until they reached the pickup. He dug in, hefting a large package of bottle water into his arms before carefully passing it off to Randall. Then he picked up one of his own, following where the other men pointed them. 

He could feel Jane's eyes on him, so he looked away quickly. "C'mon, there's stew waiting." 

Jane followed, holding her tongue only until they were out of earshot of the two newbies. "Spit it out." 

He never could hide anything from her. "I don't know. They seem nice, willing to follow the rules. Sean's a good judge of character."

"But..."

"Does the kid look okay to you?"

Jane was never about subtlety. She spun around, fixing her bright gaze on the two men walking towards the storage bay. "Skinny!" she said loudly as she examined his retreating back.

"Don't--" Chase grabbed her arm, pulling her with him towards the office. "I hate when you do that."

"So, what is it?"

"Does he look, um, hurt?"

"Who's hurt?" Kelly asked, coming out the door to meet them. 

"Everyone's fine. Chase was asking about that kid." Jane stepped up to Kelly, accepting a quick kiss on her lips. 

"Randall? He's a dear. Poor thing was trapped in the cellar by one of those things for weeks before Dave and Tony rescued him."

Jane scrunched up her nose. "Ugh."

"I don't know if he's safe with those two other guys."

Kelly snorted. "Chase, honey, I think he's in good hands with that Dave fellow." Jane was nodding knowingly, watching as the pair of men in question walked back to pick up more water.

"What?"

"You didn't notice?"  Kelly leaned into Chase's space, her voice a little more quiet even though no one else was close enough to hear. "They're together."

"What?" But even as Chase watched, Dave's hand strayed low on Randall's bare back, guiding him towards the trucks. Despite the heat, they stood close together, Randall sticking to Dave's side. Now that he was looking, now that he knew WHAT he was looking for, he was finally starting to understand the uneasy feeling he got around the new members of their group. "But I thought he was..."

Jane laughed behind her hand. "Yeah, but you always thought I was straight. I had to practically deep-tongue my girlfriend in front of you before you believed me."

Chase watched after the two men, as they loaded up with water again. Randall seemed so much smaller than the other man, even though he was technically taller. He was bent into himself, crouched down like he expected a blow every time someone came near. 

"You think, maybe, Dave's taking advantage of him? What with being the one to rescue him?"

Kelly intertwined her fingers with Jane, pulling the woman closer to her. "Sometimes, people are just gay, hon."

Jane and Kelly walked into the office space, Jane's voice quietly yet excitedly retelling her adventures. Chase stayed outside, watching the unloading of the supplies. 

*******

Randall woke to heavy humidity and hands pawing at his hips. "Mrph, I'm too sore," he mumbled, twisting to resist being turned on his stomach. 

"I don't care." Tony's voice was rough with sleep. He'd woken Randall a few times with his odd snoring, a sound he hadn't heard in weeks. The tent ensured close quarters, but it was far more comfortable than the car. The rough hands tugged at the sweaty band of his jeans, and Randall gritted his teeth as he resisted that too. 

"C'mon, it's been forever."

"I said I'm too sore. Just let me blow you." 

"You said later, and it's later now." He started pawing again, trying to turn Randall over.

"There's kids all over the place," Randall complained, his sleep-hazy brain searching for an excuse, any excuse.

"Then keep quiet."

Randall remembered the mess of the old house, the way Tony didn't always think about hitting the trashcan when he was done. "Where you gonna put the condom after?" He gestured around at the small tent space, the shadows running past.  "The kids are bound to find it."

"Shit." Tony deflated a little, his tiny eyes darting around. Considering what scaring a kid would buy you in the compound, there was no telling the hell that would rain down if one of them ran around with a "balloon" they found. And there was no way Tony was going to fuck without a condom. 

"Look, just let me blow you. You can fuck me later."

Tony huffed, but he didn't fight as Randall fished his dick out of his dirty jeans. Tony tipped his head back, breathing through his nose as Randall tugged a couple times before sucking it into his mouth. Tony hated blowjobs--well, as much as any guy could be said to "hate" them. Maybe it made it harder for him to pretend like this. He mumbled a few words about pussy, his hips barely jerking as Randall worked to quickly bring him off. His thoughts automatically went back to the men who had lined up for him once Sean and Nate were done. They didn't seem to have much of a problem with it, but then they had barely looked at Randall before pressing their dicks in his face. None of them even introduced themselves, like Sean. They didn't touch him at all, like Dave. 

By this time, he knew Tony's dick better than his own, and he sucked hard on instinct, pulling until his mouth filled and he had to swallow. He wiped his lips on his wrist. Tony tucked himself away, straightening his clothes and pulling on his cap before levering himself out the tent flap. 

Randall fished around in the discarded clothing and makeshift bedding to find one of the water bottles he'd squirreled away. Chase had promised that there was enough for everyone, and the larger stash that made up their small group's share was sitting near the tent entrance, but he didn't know how long that would last. He stole things, little stuff that people wouldn't miss right away, and hid them away, just in case.

He sipped from the warm bottle, washing away the taste before he found a shirt in the mess that didn't look too bad. His skin felt tight with the sweat of a long night squeezed between two warm bodies and the heavy humidity of the morning. 

He scooted until he could stick his feet into his shoes outside the tent, then he pushed himself to stand. His back twinged as he righted himself, a bruise-like swelling of pain at the base of his spine; he hadn't been lying when he had said he was sore. Dave had said he felt like a virgin, and he certainly could feel it now. He stretched his lower back, breathing into the tight internal pain until he knew he could stand and walk pretty normally. 

It was strange, the things you could get used to. 

There was a general noise in the camp of people waking up and greeting each other. Some small family groups were gathered together, sharing food. Randall looked around, his gaze drawn to the curtained shower area on the far side of camp. Jane was up on the roof this time, her hawk eyes scanning the area as her grip shifted on the rifle. She looked fierce, deadly. Her gaze stumbled on Randall, and she tilted the corner of her mouth in something like a smile. She looked a lot like her brother.

"Hey!" Dave called out as he stepped up into Randall's space. He didn't touch him, exactly, but he crowded close to him, enough to feel his body heat through the humidity. "Thought you were going to sleep all day." He tossed a plastic-wrapped snack bar into the air, and Randall had to scramble to catch it. "Eat up. We're on the move."

Randall shoved the bar into his mouth, following Dave to a small gathering of people. 

*********

"...water, weapons. We're looking for supplies, but we're also looking for the next safe space." 

Tony snorted, cutting into Chase's monologue. 

"You got something to add?" the man asked, his voice going deep with annoyance.

"Yeah, there ain't no safe spaces no more." 

A small group of men were bent over the map Sean had spread across the hood of the sedan. They'd taken four vehicles out for scavenging, and now they were circled around the general area where they had run into Dave's group the day before. Chase's fingers hovered over the spot he'd been outlining for the scavenging group. He stared over at Tony for a long moment, before continuing. 

"Places get overrun. It happens, so we get ready to move on. Keep your eyes open for any possibilities." His finger followed a wandering path, further away from the big red circle of the camp location. "There's a small town just down the road a ways, but I want this area cleared out before we even try to head for it. Don't want roamers on our backend if we can help it. Questions?"

Dave squinted at the map. It was old, faded, torn in places. The gray ink was hard to read as it squiggled across the paper in irregular forms. It was nothing like any road map he'd ever seen. He wanted to ask just how the guy could read such a mess, but Tony was already getting on the man’s bad side. He'd felt Chase's eyes on him every moment since he'd joined the small group in the dealership building to share in their communal breakfast, and he sensed that he needed to be on his best behavior for now.

"We'll stick in groups of four. Sean, Nate, you stay here." Chase folded the map, handing it back to Sean as the two men shared a look. Nate practically jittered from the energy coming off him, moving restlessly from foot to foot as he watched Sean with squinted eyes. It looked to Dave like there was some sort of dissension in the ranks, but with nothing said aloud, he was left feeling like he'd missed something big.

Chase stepped out of the circle long enough to lean into the bed of the truck he'd driven out himself. He flipped over the canvas tarp in the back, unwrapping something from the fabric before straightening up. With a casual gesture, Chase pulled out the most wicked looking bow Dave had ever seen. It was matte black and had more curves and arches than he thought was possible. He'd never seen something that badass outside of a scifi movie. It hardly looked real. 

Chase held it casually in the center of the main curve, laying it along his arm as he slipped a quiver of neon green arrows over his shoulder. He hitched it up a little higher, then tossed a look over his shoulder.  

"New guys, you're with me. Everyone else, spread out, check out the campsites. Only take what's clean, and destroy any of those things you find."  The group nodded, falling in behind Chase headed out away from the ring of cars. 

*********

The campsites were actually just a few gravel lots around an old lake. It had seen better days. The water had receded in a sharp drop off away from the steep shoreline, leaving a tall rim of grass and rocks that penned in the lake from every direction. There were places where the rim was caved in, the riven mud and sandy soil below indicating that someone--or something--had fallen into the water. The trees pressed in close to the lakeshore in uneven patches, creating several small, almost private areas for someone to pitch a tent and fish for a long weekend. 

Something moved in the murky depths of the lake. Dave pointed, directing Randall's gaze just in time for a half-rotted hand to rise above the surface like a fish. "What did I tell you about water, huh?"

"Don't drink it," Chase said gravely, as he stepped around the space. Their small group was searching the west side, furthest from the cars but within shouting distance of the other groups. 

Dave finally got to see that wicked bow in action when Chase had to draw on a couple deadheads wandering around a tree. It was nearly silent as he pulled back and let an arrow fly. The long shaft buried into the head of one corpse, making it look like a bad joke. When the other one turned around to snarl, Chase hit it in the center of the forehead. He deftly recovered his arrows before waving them on. 

The abandoned tents they found in the first few spots were shredded and destroyed, decaying flesh and blood staining the nylon. Some of the coolers still had viable supplies, and one dead dude had a really nice thick-handled knife that someone had left in his temple. Randall pulled it out of his head, wiping the gore off on the corpse's pants as Dave and Chase picked through the bags of stuff. Tony stood guard for the most part, his ever-present rifle held loosely over his shoulder.

People had brought the strangest shit with them. Most seemed like they had at least camped out once or twice in their lives, but sometimes they'd find a DVD player or a shattered tablet computer in among spoiled food or broken bottles. One corpse had a whole garbage bag filled with nothing but little plastic figures, still in their boxes. Dave was going to leave it behind, but Chase made them take it with them. He said it'd be a good distraction for the kids, like an early Christmas. 

Microwave popcorn seemed to be a staple of every campsite they found, which was ridiculous when no one had a microwave or the electricity to use it. It was easy to carry, easy to add to the collection of supplies they'd started putting together. They only came across a few shambling lamebrains as they circled the lake; it appeared most of the dead had stumbled into the water where they were trapped by the steep sides and slippery mud. They didn't bother shooting those water-soaked creeps. Better to save their ammo. 

When they finally came across a tent that wasn't filled with rotting stuff, Chase set his bow aside and shrugged off his backpack to dig out some rope. "Start kicking out those stakes," he directed as he slipped inside, dragging a ragged quilt out of the tent. 

Tony and Dave started working at the stakes, loosening them from the muddy ground as Randall leaned against a tree. The kid's eyes scanned the ground, the trees, the shadows, the water; he'd fallen easily into vigilance as the rest of the team worked silently, keeping an eye out for any deadheads. Dave leaned his whole body weight into the stake, finally lifting it out of the sucking wet muck. He smiled in triumph, tossing the stake toward the quilt Chase was using to stack materials as he looked up at Randall. 

The kid had dug his fingers into the tree, shifting uneasily on his feet as he swiveled his head. He winced, stretching his shoulders and back, and a small noise escaped his throat. Dave wiped his hands on his dirty jeans and stepped up the short swell of a hill to reach Randall.  He could feel the burn of Chase's gaze focused on his back. "You okay?" he asked softly, once he was close enough.

Randall nodded his head and bit his lip, looking anything but. His face was a little paler, and he was still catching his breath from the hike despite the slow pace. He looked exhausted. The kid had gone from starving in a basement to recovering in bed to being stuck in a car with two other guys for weeks on end. All this exercise was probably a bit too much for him. He pressed one hand into Randall's lower back, his face pulled down with concern. "You sure?"

Randall looked around to be sure they were being ignored before he leaned into Dave's space, whispering, "Sore."  

It took a moment for Dave to parse the bitten-short word, but then, even knowing it was a dick move, he smiled. "Too rough on you, huh puppy?" Randall looked like he wanted to hit him, but the kid resisted it. He rolled his eyes, turning his face away with a deep frown. Dave just laughed, his free hand slipping behind his back to find the small bottle he'd secreted away. 

"Look. I'll make it up to you." He pulled it out, palming the bottle and shielding them away from Tony and Chase with his body. "I was gonna show this to you later, but look." He revealed it like a magician. It was one of those travel-sized bottles that looked like miniaturized version of the real thing, text all tiny and hard to read. A child's face smiled up from the pink label. 

"Baby oil?"

"Lotion." Dave kept smiling in spite of Randall's confused look. "Yeah, for--" he slid his hand down Randall's lower back, pressing up against the crack of his ass, but his next words were cut off as Randall straightened like a shot. He pushed himself up and away from Dave's touch in the same moment a dark figure staggered into the dappled sunlight. It was a bit of a blur in the corner of Dave's eyes, and he turned to see what was happening. 

A broken, rotting form was leaning clumsily, its messed-up arm almost touching Chase's bent back. The man didn't look aware of it at all, his eyes focused on separating two long rods from each other. He seemed completely blind to the danger just a heartbeat away from him. 

Randall was moving swiftly, hopping down the hill with quick steps as his squat knife suddenly appeared in his hand. With a heavy, two-handed blow, he sank the short blade into the back of the creature's head, riding it down to the ground as it fell. He pulled out the blade, the metal ringing against bone, and slammed it again, then again. 

Randall had to stand and press his foot into the neck of the newly re-dead corpse to dig his knife out. It came wetly, long hairs and bloody muck sticking to the metal. Barely seeming to blink, Randall bent down to wipe the crap onto the grass before slipping it back into his holster. 

The kid didn't even seem to realize that he had a longer, better, newer knife tucked next to it in his belt. He looked like he had just moved on instinct. Dave knew the glaze in his eyes when Randall turned around. It wasn't like the early days in the little house. This was the Randall he first met standing above the crushed skull of a random lamebrain, the Randall he only saw when the dead were close and there was nothing to do but fight. 

The kid was dumb as a post, but he was a good fuck and an even better fighter. It was kind of hot. 

Randall's gaze cleared, his brown eyes going big and soft once again. He looked around at the other three men, all of whom were silently staring at him, before he frowned. "What?"

Dave barked out a quick laugh, his paralysis finally breaking. "Fuck, puppy, I always forget the other reason we keep you around." He closed the space between them in a few steps, capturing Randall's face in his hands before kissing him hard and quick. 

Randall's gaze darted over to Chase as Dave released him, and he turned to face the big boss for his reaction. The man's sleepy eyes were wide, focused on Dave's hands against Randall's cheeks. After getting stared at all day, Dave felt a bit smug, showing off his own pretty little thing just like Chase had done with Kelly.  

Finally, Chase coughed, breaking eye contact. "Let's get this packed up and then head back to the cars," he muttered. The two rods were broken apart in his hands, one slightly bent as he tossed them onto the quilt. Tony went back to folding the nylon in on itself, laughing quietly under his breath. 

Dave turned Randall back to face him, catching his lips once again in a quick peck. "When we get back, we are so using this stuff."

Randall made a face. "I'm sore."  

"Not that sore if you can move like that, puppy."  Dave backed off, though, his eyes scanning the trees as Tony and Chase bundled the tent pieces together with the rope. 

********

They walked away with every member of the group alive and unharmed, laden down with two extra tents and a few backpacks filled with supplies. In all, Randall could count the trip as a plus--supplies, and a deadhead at the end of his knife. 

When they got back, a few people came out to help unload and sort the new supplies, but overall the camp was quiet and subdued. Jane was one of the first to arrive, determinedly heading straight for Chase's truck. The siblings shared a few quiet words, their hands drawing shapes between them. They looked so similar, and yet so very different, Randall thought. It was interesting, the way Chase changed around her. 

Dave was stalking forward before Randall even knew he had moved away. On instinct, Randall reached out for him, but Dave was already pushing his way into their space, his eyes locked on Jane. 

"Did we pass?" he asked, his sharp question directed to Jane. 

"What?" Her smile dropped as she tilted her head in confusion.

"You know what. There was hardly anything left in that camp. Sending us off with Chase--why would the head guy go off on a crap supply run? It was a test. So, did we pass?"

Chase pulled his bow out of the back of the truck. He made eye contact with Jane, gesturing to Dave. "It was your idea."

Jane frowned, then turned back to Dave. "You wouldn't be back here if you hadn't."

Dave smiled, all teeth and charm. "Knew you couldn't resist me."

Jane glared, but Chase gave a little chuffing laugh. She pushed him aside, leading the way back to the dealership building. 

"I knew it." Dave's voice was low, but Randall could make it out clearly. 

"What?"

"Chase isn't the leader here. It's his sister." Dave laughed a little, knocking into Randall's side as they started back towards their tent with a couple boxes of microwave popcorn shoved under their arms. "No man would make up stupid rules like that. They'd know better about keeping a group together." Dave held open the tent flap, gesturing like a gentleman. "Guy probably has to beg little sis for permission to fuck that whore of his."

Randall made a face, but he toed off his shoes and stepped instead, keeping his thoughts to himself.

************

The next time they went out on a scavenging run, Chase stayed behind. Sean led the way, and a slightly larger group of men followed in their own cars. Randall had managed to clean out some of the dirty clothes and trash from the Prius to free up the backseat, so they wouldn't be as squished into the car as usual. Tony took the back, his face sour as the group rounded up and headed back on the road. 

After a few minutes, once the camp was out of sight, Tony reached into the front seat. "Get back here." 

Randall shrugged off his hand. "We're busy."

Dave snorted a laugh. "No we're not. Sean said we've got a good hour drive ahead. We're scouting out a trailer park they cleared out two weeks ago." Dave gestured to the cars on the road in front of them, smiling like it was the open road and sunshine for miles around. "We've got all the time in the world." 

Randall held in the little groan of frustration he wanted to let out, instead focusing on manipulating the front seat so he could slip into the back. The back finally dropped down with a satisfying click, giving Randall a little bridge over the supplies stuffed in the footwells. Once he was over onto the seat, Dave clicked a button and the bridge went back up, leaving him stranded.

Tony was already messing with his fly, his other hand digging down into the supplies. Randall started to slowly slip off his shirt. At the unfamiliar noise of paper rattling around, Dave shifted the rearview mirror around. "What are you doing back there?"

"What does it look like?" Tony snarked back, flashing his dick at Dave. With a flutter of glossy colors, a crumpled magazine was finally freed from under the pack of water bottles. Randall could only see peach and red and splashes of darkness as Tony flattened out the paper and set it beside him on the other side of the seat.

"No shit, you hid a titty mag in here?" Dave laughed. 

"Where else am I supposed to put it, those kids all around?" Tony was still upset with Dave over the argument they had about moving the tent further away from the children's shelter. He'd been settling for blowjobs, and it was making him cranky as fuck. Tony grunted, shifting closer to Randall into the middle of the seat and working his dick into his fist. "Getcher pants off, I ain't waiting around for no deadheads to interrupt."

Randall toed off his shoes even as he shifted his jeans off his hips and down his legs. He left it all in the mess in the footwell to be picked up later. His ass still felt slick from where Dave had fucked him with the lotion this morning, but at least he wasn't rubbed-raw sore. He sat with his hands in his lap, waiting for Tony to give him the word. The man didn't like any help, not like Dave. He just wanted a hole. 

Tony ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, deftly unwrapping it and rolling it down on his dick. He gestured Randall over. For a moment, he wasn't sure how they were supposed to work this. He climbed on top, facing Tony. The man seemed a little annoyed, but he opened to a nice centerfold, pressing the magazine against Randall's chest to get him to hold it there. The paper covered his limp dick as he moved his ass around, finding the proper angle to sink himself down. 

It was one of those slick condoms, which helped him to slide down. Tony's face was frowned in intense concentration, staring at the spread pussy across Randall's chest as he started to thrust upwards. It was awkward, and Randall's head kept bumping the ceiling. The back seat of a Prius wasn't meant for two people to fuck sitting up. Or laying down. Really, a Prius just wasn't meant for fucking. 

Randall tried to focus on balancing on his knees, his legs spread wide as he held the magazine in one hand and tried to hold off the ceiling as best he could. He tried to use the extra leverage to help bring Tony off, pushing himself down with every bump of his hips. Usually it didn't take too long to get him off, especially after being forced to deal with only blowjobs for a few days, but something about the position just wasn't doing it. He was starting to get a cramp, his neck bugging him as he bounced again and again and again. 

Tony growled with frustration, his face squeezed tight. "Fuck this, get off." 

Randall was only too happy to scramble off his lap, his butt aching a little as he hunched into the backseat. He caught Dave's eyes watching him from the driver's seat. Tony was only half-hard, his dick quickly deflating in the loose condom. Tony stripped it off and rolled down the window enough to toss the limp bit of latex out onto the road. Absently, Randall hoped it wouldn't land on the car behind them. 

"Fucking bitch," Tony growled under his breath, flipping over to another page, his hand working furiously beneath the paper. He flipped to another page as Randall shrank against the door. Once he was hard enough again, he slipped on another condom, this time grabbing Randall by the hips as he pulled him over. 

Randall fell back into Tony's chest as his legs tangled up in his discarded clothes. Tony pushed him forward, his head falling into the space between the front seats as his hips were arranged just so. His feet dug into the supplies, finding something to brace against. Randall gasped out a breath, rustling the soft hairs behind Dave's ear. A glint of a smirk was all he could see from the mirror. 

A slick push of his hand, and Tony was slipping back inside, a little rough and at a tight angle. Something stuck to his back, a rustle of paper letting him know that Tony had that damn magazine still. He used one hand to keep it in place as he thrust upwards. 

Randall's hands squeezed the backrests of the two front seat as he held on, arching his back to take the pressure off his lower spine. 

"Yeah, fucking squeeze that cunt, bitch," Tony groaned out, pumping in short little thrusts. 

Randall looked up, catching Dave's eyes in the rearview mirror, his gaze hot and pupils wide as he switched his gaze from the road to Randall and back to the road again and again. Randall twisted his hips, working the angle to give more friction to his moves. It was starting to feel a little bit good, that odd squeeze of pressure in certain spaces, like his dick was getting massaged from the inside. Randall rode the motions, keeping his gaze focused on the dark holes of Dave's face. 

He didn't notice the car had stopped moving until the back door cracked open and a burst of humid air brought goosebumps to his skin. He looked to the side, catching Sean's face bent over and peering inside. Tony just thrust harder, his hand squeezing at Randall's hip as he came. 

"Was gonna ask if you needed some help," Sean said dryly, "but I see your boy is taking care of some business."

Tony pushed Randall off his lap, dumping him into the seat near the open door as he stripped off the used condom. Randall's hard cock slapped against his own stomach, and he tried to hide it with his hands. Tony opened the door on the other side, getting out of the car with a groan as Randall tumbled backwards, his slick ass open like an invitation as Sean watched.

Dave twisted in his seat, looking over his shoulder back at Randall spread out and bare. "Looks to me like he's not done yet." Dave licked his lips as Randall buried his face into the carseat so he wouldn't have to look anymore. "Go on, he's begging for it." 

Warm, rough hands rubbed over his bare thigh, and he opened his legs, tilting his hips in an invitation. "You sure?" Sean asked, and Randall wasn't sure who he was talking to, so he just reached up and pulled the taller man down on top of him, hiding his face in his neck. 

Sean laughed, a deep, warm, rich noise that rumbled against his chest and face. Randall tilted his hips, rubbing upwards, looking for a little bit of friction to keep the good feelings going. "Hold on, just gotta..." The man trailed off, moving on top of Randall until he finally felt the hard, blunt, hot press of another man's dick against his balls. Randall moaned, pressing his face harder into Sean's neck and almost biting him.

"You got any--"

"I'm slick, just put it in," Randall gasped, biting hard on his cheek to keep from yelling at the man to just get it over with. Sean moved himself around, repositioning as he started to push inside, as bare as Dave had been this morning. His ass was slick enough his dickhead slipped around a little until he found the correct angle, getting it right into his hole and going balls-deep in one hard push. 

Randall wrapped his arms and legs around the man, holding on and rubbing his cock against his stomach when Sean thrust inside.  The car was rocking beneath them, not enough to be moving again, just shifting as Sean pounded inside him. The weight felt good, friction against his dick while the man grazed the internal places that made him feel better. He shifted, pressing his hips up harder against the thrusts as pleasure built up, his balls getting tight and everything felt so good, so close. 

Sean jerked and gasped, flooding Randall with another load of come. Randall whined, thrusting into the pressure, trying to chase his own orgasm even as he felt the pressure inside ease off as Sean's cock deflated.

"Better than a pussy, huh?" Dave's smug voice bounded off the odd angles of the small car. Sean's chuckle was warm in his ear in sharp contrast. Carefully, Sean pulled out, tucking himself back into his pants. 

Randall let his limbs drop, going limp and open as Sean knee-walked his way back out of the car. The vague feelings of pleasure were quickly bleeding off his nerves, leaving him feeling incredibly frustrated.

Sean was smiling, however, his face dark with blood. If there was any guilt or shame in him for fucking a man, it wasn't showing. "Not quite, but it's still really nice." 

Randall frowned, feeling like he should be insulted by the comment while at the same time he was oddly reassured. Sean saw it, his hand coming out to rub against his ankle before he backed out of the car totally. "Real nice," he said again, winking. 

"What's the hold-up?" a strange voice shouted from somewhere outside the car. 

Randall reached down for his clothes, trying to cover his still-hard dick. Dave's hand came down, falling on top of his knee. 

"You don't have to do anything, puppy. You want to stay in the car?" It was his soft, reasonable voice, the one that Randall always trusted. At least someone in the situation had a hold on things. 

"But, uh, scavenging?"

"I think we've got enough men to check out a few shacks. You can help keep watch for deadheads, huh?"

Randall nodded, eager to work out his frustration on some of the dead. He started shaking out his shirt, willing his dick to go down as he tried to figure out how to get it right-side out. 

"Nah, don't worry about that. Just, uh, be good?"

Randall raised his eyes, looking around the Prius. The other cars and trucks were ringed around them, the other men already out. Some of them were holding weapons, while others had their hands shoved in their pants. 

Randall swallowed the words he was going to say, and instead just nodded. He dropped his clothes back down, then moved around in the backseat until he was in a comfortable position on his hands and knees, ass facing out of the car. This way, he wouldn't have to focus on the faces, and just let them do the work. Sweat was sticking like tacky glue on his skin, the humid air making it stuffy inside the sheltered darkness of the car. 

"I'll be back soon, puppy." 

A hand rustled his hair, and Randall settled his chest down, leaning his head on his folded arms. 

"Holy shit." 

"Look at how much the faggot wants it." 

"I told you she sucked off every guy in the group and was gagging for more." 

"Not every guy, some of us didn't get a turn." 

Randall tuned out the voices, focusing on getting his body to relax as a strange set of hands gripped his hips, and an unfamiliar cock pushed inside. 

Over the next hour, his cock wilted and stayed limp and meek, but none of the guys seemed to give a shit. 

******

Nate didn't look happy to be stuck with the scavenging party, but Sean collared him before he could join the group around the car. "Later, man, if he's still in the mood." 

Dave chuckled, his gaze constantly shifting to the scene they were leaving behind. "He'll be in the mood. That kid just can't get enough. He was pissed you called it off so early the other day." 

"We needed to get back to camp." Sean pushed Nate ahead of him, pointing the smaller group out towards the nearest tornado magnet. "Get your heads in the game. We've got 20 domiciles to clear."

"What did you guys leave behind this time? Blankets?"

Sean gave him a light glare, enough to tell him to stop jacking around but not enough to let him know he crossed the line. "We're out here to scavenge metal, things we can turn into weapons. Aluminum if we can get it, any hoses or pipes, too." He leaned into Dave's space. "We take what we need, until we need more. We don't know when we might have to use this place as a backup when our safezone goes to shit."

"You sound like you've been doing this for a while. How long you been out here?"

Sean resettled the rifle over his shoulder, his hand straying to the pistol he had strapped to his thigh. "I was at Fort Benning, before it went to shit. Some asshole got stupid and greedy, and now that location is no longer an option. Let's go."

Dave made eye contact with Tony, but the fat fuck was just checking his own rifle, getting ready to fight his way into the first mobile home. "I'll make a note not to piss you off."

"Good." Sean banged on the closed door, staring at Dave with an unreadable expression as they waited for any lamebrain moans to greet them.

*********

They cleared about half the trailers of dead things and trash before they returned to the cars and switched out for fresh eyes and a new group. Sean kicked one guy awake, handing him his rifle and sending him off with the next batch of scavengers. 

"Metal, pipes, hoses."

Order seemed to return to the area with Sean walking in. Dave went to check on Randall. The kid was a fucked-out mess, his legs and ass sticking out the back door of the car. Some of the guys came on his back, even his hair, and didn't bother to clean him up. His asshole was puffy and slick, but it didn't gape open like he half-expected it would on coming back. "Puppy, wake up."

Randall grunted, then spread his legs a little wider. A warm gush of cloudy come pushed out of his ass, dripping down his sagging balls. 

A big part of Dave really wanted to lick some of the sour come out of his ass, but he wasn't too sure that these were the kind of guys to show off that certain proclivity, lest they get some ideas when the line gets long. Randall was the only one whose ass was available, and he wanted to make sure that was clear. He was willing to do a lot to get the guys on his side, but not that. 

"Puppy," Dave sang out, "wake up. Time to get washed up." He slapped Randall's butt for good measure, winning a little yelp out of the kid. 

Nate was nearby, eyeing Randall greedily as he laughed. "Is that why you call him puppy?" Nate put his hands up, wrists limp as he panted and coughed out a noise similar to Randall's little yell. Then he laughed, an ugly, nasally noise. 

Fucking redneck weasel. 

Dave rolled his eyes, slipping off his shirt to douse it with some water. He reached in, pulling Randall to his feet and helping him stay upright. The kid leaned against the car as Dave carefully wiped the gunk out of his hair and off his back. Then he turned him around.

Randall looked a bit dazed, his eyes unclear. He dipped his head meekly as Dave cupped his cheek, examining his face. He held up the bottle of water, waiting until his eyes cleared a bit before he brought it to his mouth, tipping a trickle over his tongue. Randall licked his lips, his eyes finally reaching Dave's. "How you feeling, puppy?"

Randall cleared his throat, opening his mouth in response. Dave tipped the bottle, letting him drink his fill. When he started pulling away, Dave put it down on top of the car. "How you feeling?"

Randall yawned, tipping his head to the side. "Little tired. Sticky. Any deadheads to deal with?"

Dave leaned in, capturing his bitten lips in a quick sloppy kiss. He could taste a bit of come on his tongue, showing that at least one man hadn't waited for his turn at the back. "A few. Pretty much quiet as a church," he responded. Randall frowned, licking his lips and looking around blankly. "Turn around."

Randall fidgeted from foot to foot. "Now?"

"Just want to clean you up. Don't want to get your jeans dirty, huh?"

Randall turned around, Dave helping him when his wobbly legs threatened to buckle. He used his body to block off the view, giving Randall just a little bit of privacy behind the open car door as he slid his hand down his back to touch his hip. "Spread your legs." 

Randall shifted, moving his legs a little more apart. "Push your ass out, puppy. Show me what you got."

Randall glared over his shoulder, but he leaned forward, pushing his ass up and out. With one hand, Dave slipped his fingers over the blood-hot skin, feeling the abused hole twitch against his fingers. He stuck two fingers inside, feeling the wet sticky mess of fresh-fucked ass. He spread his fingers, holding him open as he slowly poured the cool water down his spine, catching it and directing it into his hole. 

The kid shivered as cool water touched roughed up skin. Dave leaned closer, pushing his fingers deeper and getting them a little more wet and sticky. 

"Should just shove this bottle inside, squeeze out all that water and clean you out good, puppy." Randall whimpered. "Maybe later, huh?" He checked the water flowing out between his legs, seeing it a little less cloudy with each splash. He pumped his fingers in and out, getting them wet and pulling at the tender insides until he was pretty satisfied he was clean. He dropped the nearly-empty bottle on the ground, using his shirt to wipe him down, dry him off. 

Dave helped Randall turn around, tucking him into his shoulder as he kissed his puppy's sweaty neck. "Such a good boy." He held him for a moment, just enjoying the tiny shivers and the exhausted limpness of the kid. Then he pulled back, framing his face with his hands. "You still hungry, or have you had enough." 

Those big dark eyes darted to the side, in the direction where the redneck fuck was probably still standing, still staring. Maybe the guy had his dick out. Maybe he was just standing there. He wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction of getting any more of his attention, not when he had his sweet puppy fucked out and calm in front of him. 

Randall met his eyes. "I want to go get some roamers."

"Roamers?"

"'s what Chase called 'em. The dead things."

Dave laughed a little, catching Randall's lips again in a quick kiss. "Okay, kid, let's go find some roamers. Sean!" Dave called over his shoulder, catching the man's attention. "We're on the next team."

Randall crouched into the car, picking up his discarded clothing and stepping into his jeans. He fastened the fly, then carefully attached his squat little knife to the waist. He leaned back inside, pulling out a crumpled shirt that was luckily free of any obvious stains. 

Dave snaked his arm around Randall's waist, leading him towards the trailers. 


End file.
